tattoo boy

[35]

Carma's POV ☆ |

Where do I even start?

The days at the tattoo shop were boring. I, myself was boring too. I only went to work for the pay and not the experience of seeing my art on other people's bodies. I was trying to find myself, but everything seemed grey and black.

Until Angelica began working with me.

On her first day in the shop, she looked so...innocent. Barely any tattoos, light makeup, and dyed red hair. Something about her was so plain but a weird plain. She was quiet and cleaned around the shop, barely talking to anyone.

I thought since she was new that she would open up as time passed, but she continued to remain to herself. So on a very special day, I decided to talk to her.

--

"You keep to yourself, don't you?" I smiled at her.

"oh, sorry." she smiled back, but it didn't seem full.

--

The next thing I knew it I found myself trying to talk to her every day. soon enough she would open up and start conversations back at me. We laughed, smiled, gossiped, and did stupid shit together.

Angelica helped me stand out. Not that I'll ever let her know it, but I wasn't always the bold and spoken person I am today. Since I care for her like a sister, I look out for her. And during the time that I've known her, I discovered she hates crying in front of others. She always hid her feelings.

But when her mom died, she became a different person. She wouldn't want anyone to know, but she would cry in the bathroom at work, alone. She constantly came to work with swollen eyes and barely an appetite.

It hurt me.

I tried everything I could to help her but there was nothing for me to do. It was something she had to find herself. She started getting tattoos all or her body to prove that she was a piece of art.

After her father left too she barely showed any emotion at all. She would call out of work because she had a heavy hangover. Or when I would check on her for the weekends she would be passed out with a wine or two on her coffee table.

Soon she began to slightly get better. Her smile returned but something wasn't right about it. Again, there was a smile but it wasn't genuine. And now, she was back. She laughed, she smiled, and she meant it. All because of him.

I could've been jealous that he was able to do what I couldn't, but that wasn't my place, to begin with. They were madly in love with each other but wouldn't admit it. The way she looked at him and the way he looked at her. I felt happy.